Not a day went by without the thought of Arthur. A week had passed, Alfred counted, but it had not felt that way.
On the path to his home, there was a store with scrolls, and every time the Alpha crossed it, he wondered how Arthur read things. He was not capable of reading or writing himself, but he knew that a royal that spoke as formally as Arthur could. Never before had he heard such a crisp voice—refined yet gentle, lilted for soothing.
He was handsome, Arthur had said. He was a handsome Alpha, and he had never believed that until the princess had offered him those kind words. Handsome Alphas were not supposed to exist among the lower classes. "What does he find handsome?" Alfred murmured to himself. Currently, the evening was nigh, and the sky was darkening. All of the horses and mares had only recently been returned to their stalls. Now, he only cleaned up what remained of their presence. Now, he thought of nothing but Arthur.
"Forgive me for intruding once more. I simply could not help but notice you over here."
Alfred could not refrain from jumping. He turned, eyes blown wide in surprise, though they only dilated even more when he witnessed the sight before him. Arthur was not wearing what he had been a week ago. Tonight, the Omega was garbed in a chiffon dress. The earthy green that enclosed his pallid skin and rolled off of him in billowing trains and skirts was spellbinding, and Alfred watched in a forthright sort of awe.
"What're you wearin' all of that for?" It was the first thing that the stableman could manage. "I hope that's not for me. I ain't got much knowledge of fashion."
Arthur's eyes sparkled the way one might expect a princess' to. He raised a gloved hand, cupping it delicately over his own mouth to suppress a giggle. "There was a party," he informed, and Alfred turned his head away, abashed. It only brought forth a crooning from the Omega. "Do not look so chagrined, Alfred. I came over here, after all. Speaking with you is considerably more fun than speaking with any totty at the palace."
The wind made the stable's posts creak, and Alfred finally did return his gaze, if just to watch how Arthur's skirts ruffled in the breeze. "Thank you," the stableman returned. His voice was quiet, peaceful with the movements of the evening. It was rare for Alfred to find himself calm, but this Omega seemed to bring that effect everywhere he went.
"I didn't want to stay in the palace any longer than I had to," Arthur continued. Carefully, he extended a hand to Alfred, who stared in shock. "Take it and quit gawking at me as if I'm a leper. I wish to get to know you better, Alfred. I lack friends."
Alfred could not find a reason to decline the Omega's offer—he had not even thought of doing so. "Your glove," he warned. "My hands are dirty. Your glove is gonna get dirty, too." With a boldness he did not yet understand, Alfred heedfully removed the glove of the princess, and Arthur watched his every movement with curiosity.
Alfred's hand was warm, and Arthur's hand was cold. The latter fit well into the former.
"There ain't much to know about me, for the record. I'm a worker." The stableman allowed himself to be led forward, eyes trained upon the flowing lace that swished behind Arthur with every step. A moment later, he grinned, and it could be heard in his tone. "Do you usually approach workin' Alphas that you happen to think are handsome?"
"Certainly not the ones that talk about me as if I am a loose whore on the streets. You, however, seem far too irreproachable to be someone of that sort."
Alfred was struck with that same warm feeling that had plagued him a week ago.
"Some would argue that it's how... er, nice I am that makes plenty of Omegas disinterested. Bein' irre...irrepro—too sweet makes people shake their heads, and I've seen it. How come you don't talk bad about it like everyone else?" When Arthur ceased walking, it was before a lone bench. The princess sat upon it with a gentle air, watching Alfred with a curt smile. When Arthur smiled at him that way, he did not know what to do. It flustered him, shook his heart, and he swiftly looked in another direction.
"Because I am not an Alpha. Any Omega would kill to have a caring mate, lad. Most are too afraid to admit that," Arthur stated. His voice tapered off into something meaningful, and his eyes grew distant. "Because I want an Alpha other than the poor selection that comes to me weekly. Suitors and Kings from afar come to visit, but—"
Arthur inhaled sharply, and it had Alfred's eyes on him again. There was tension in his small frame. He looked as if he was fighting a battle within his own form, and when he gazed up again, Alfred saw the eyes of someone who had experienced far too much for his years. "They do not fulfill. They are only interested in their own satisfaction."
Alfred was silent. He was silent because he could not empathise, and he was silent because he could not understand why Arthur grieved firsthand. He was silent because all he could do was listen. It changed when his genial side interrupted.
"What kinda Alpha do you want?" His words were slow, cautious, and he sat upon the bench at Arthur's side. "Who do you wanna be with for the rest of your life?"
"Someone affable," Arthur immediately answered. "I want him to be affable. He will be an altruistic man—not only for myself, but for the well-being of others. I want the Alpha that was read to me in story books when I was a boy. A strong Alpha, able to understand how to control said strength, one that is able to sate me during my heat. He will be kind, fair and have a smile that brings warmth into the cold darkness that is that godforsaken palace. He will go to another Omega before I ever meet him, because I will be sold off to a cruel Alpha instead."
The Omega looked sorrowful, and Alfred frowned right along with him. "That's no attitude to have," the stableman berated. "None at all. That's your dream Alpha, and the gods are gonna give him to you. You're just about the kindest Omega I've ever met, Arthur. The gods will repay that, and I'm willin' to bet they'll grant you that lovely wish."
Arthur smiled. It was different from the others he had offered; his smile was grateful, utterly appreciative, and his eyes did not pull away from Alfred's. It was a slow process, but Alfred was beginning to learn that there was a myriad of smiles Arthur was able to give. "What about you, lad? Do you have a dream Omega of sorts?"
Alfred's answer took time to form. Arthur's quaint speech had been pleasant to hear, and he only wished to sound half as articulate. "A smart one. I'm not... mentally gifted. I work with my hands—I want an Omega that reads, writes and ain't ashamed to be independent. I'd like it if they were a little broody, yeah, and not willin' to submit under the word of any Alpha. Not even me. I want them to be small, so that when we tuck down in a bed after a long day, I can hold them, and they can know that they ain't got a reason to fear a single thing in this world." Alfred's solemn look had grown into a dreamy one. His grin was wide and crooked, eyes lidded behind old lenses. "And they oughtta have a sense of humour, too. There's nothin' nicer than makin' the people you love giggle."
"You're a strange Alpha," Arthur murmured. He was studying Alfred, eyes narrowed, but the faint curve of his lips suggested he was entertained. "Very odd. Seldom do I hear Alphas speak of anything other than lust. Why are you so profound, hm?"
"I've got a brother, and he's an Omega. His name's Matthew. It's him that made me so soft." A heady laugh escaped Alfred, and Arthur was made giddy by it. "He's already married, but he still visits me all the time. Wouldn't know what to do without him."
"That's incredibly sweet. You speak rather fondly of him. I'm fairly certain my own brothers wouldn't spare a single coin for my sake," the princess snorted. "Among four, I am the only Omega." This earned a bewildered look from Alfred, and then a lopsided smile of sympathy.
"Must be a little tough. I see why you're such a confident Omega. With that kinda behaviour, I bet you'll find your dream Alpha in no time, Arthur. I know it."
Arthur's warm smile remained, and he looked forward again. Just as seven days ago, a tranquil quiet settled among both males. It did not last as long, for when the sun passed the horizon, Arthur stood and gathered his skirts in one hand.
"I must be off, Alfred. It has been pleasant speaking with you again. I'm certain that we will become good friends," Arthur softly remarked. Alfred stood after a beat, and only now realised just how much shorter Arthur was than him. He was rather small, the Alpha decided, even for an Omega—but that was not unpleasant.
"Boy, I sure do hope so. You're some fancy company; I think this is a nice start to a big, warm friendship." Alfred flashed a toothy grin, and extended a hand for Arthur to shake. Perhaps it was contemplation, but Arthur hesitated. After no more than a few moments, he gently reached out and took Alfred's hand, smoothing a thumb over his calloused palm as he shook it.
What would that rough touch feel like brushing down his body?
It was a thought unbidden, and Arthur's cheeks blossomed red. He did not let go of the Alpha's hand until Alfred did so for him, and said stableman sent him a smile far too bright for such a lonely place as he turned away to head home.
I could not imagine my days without you,
your beauty in body, in mind, in spirit,
mate of mine.